The Hobbits: A Journey of Consequence
by etiquette-faux-pas
Summary: When Gandalf the Grey comes to the Shire, he does not solely select Bilbo Baggins as 'THE' Burglar. Gandalf also enlists the aid of another: a hobbit of the mysterious Aigrette clan and, most importantly, an Adventurer. Will these two hobbits survive the Journey and it's perils, and make it There and Back Again? (Consider this a 'Second Burglar' type story.) Bilbo x OFC
1. Prologue

**Hello! This is my first story for ****_The Hobbit_**** category. It is a long one, and I have it planned out through LotR as well. This version I have written follows the movie(s) rather than the book. If you think that I should post the book version instead, please let me know. Also, much text is direct from said film(s), and is not my property. **

**(Insert Usual Disclaimers here.)**

**That being said, all aspects of this story that do NOT belong in the movie or book are my work, and belong TO ME. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**-Ana**

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Prologue

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED

In the smallest hours of the morning of his one hundred and eleventh birthday, Bilbo Baggins awoke to a sudden, joyous realization: an old and dear friend whom he had parted with, almost sixty years before, would pay a long awaited visit that afternoon.

Yet he knew that this wasn't what had woken him; he had been counting down the days for weeks prior. No; his conscience troubled him: once again, he was forgetting something...but what?

Suddenly, it dawned on him. Of course! Bilbo sat bolt upright in bed. For years, he had put off writing down his memoires; _today_ his nephew needed to know who this guest really was, and why its visit meant so much to old Bilbo. After all these years, today was the last opportunity.

He had only one chance, and not a moment to lose.

Bilbo slipped out of bed and dressed as quickly as he could. He hurried through the halls of his comfortable, mathom-filled hobbit hole, knowing that he mustn't wake his nephew; Bilbo couldn't abide interruptions. A rather large portion of his past had been withheld from the boy. Now, as he lit a candle and went about fingering mementoes, Bilbo realized that there was quite a lot that had to be brought to light.

And knowing that his words always came out best on paper, he sat down at his writing desk and began penning a letter:

_September 22, Shire Year 1400_

_My dear Frodo,_

_You asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my 'adventures'. And while I can honestly say that I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it._

_I am old now, Frodo. I'm not the same hobbit I once was. I think it is time for you to know what really happened._

_It began long ago, in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today._

_There was the city of Dale: its markets known far and wide; full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth: Erebor. Stronghold of Thror; king under the mountain, mightiest of the dwarf lords. Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure. For his line lay secure in the lives of his son, and grandson._

_Ah, Frodo: Erebor! Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock, and in great seams of gold, running like rivers through stone. _

_The skill of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire. _

_Ever they delved, deeper down into the dark. And that is how they found it: the Arkenstone._

_Thror named it the King's Stone. He took it as a sign; a sign that his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him, even the great Elvenking, Thranduil. _

_But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in._

_Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce; a sickness had begun to grow within him. It was a sickness of the mind: and where sickness thrives, bad things will follow._

_The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the North. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind._

_He was a fire drake from the North: Smaug had come._

_Such wanton death was dealt that day; for this city of men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize, for dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire._

_Erebor was lost, for a dragon will guard his plunder for as long as he lives._

_Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wroth of the dragon. No help came from the elves that day, or any day since._

_Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low. The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of men. But always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright; for he had seen dragon-fire in the sky like a city turned to ash._

_And he never forgave; and he never forgot._

_That, my dear Frodo, is where I come in. For quite by chance, and the will of a wizard, fate decided that I would become a part of this tale._

Bilbo looked up to dip his pen, and saw that the night had passed; it was another beautiful Shire morning, with the early light of day streaming the the round windows of Bag End. He smiled. Today was the day. Despite his nervousness, Bilbo was overjoyed at the idea of seeing once again his dearest friend.

_It began—well, it began as you might expect. _

_In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of worms and oozy smells: this was a hobbit-hole, and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home._

Across the hall, Bilbo could hear his nephew rummaging around in one of the pantries. So intent was he on his work that he barely heard him step outside to fetch the mail. Only when his nephew returned did he stop writing. Bilbo had been chuckling quietly to himself; but when Frodo came into the room he laid down his pen, composed himself, and said rather stiffly:

"Thank you."

While setting the bundle of letters onto a nearby shelf, Frodo caught a glimpse of a worn sketch of Bilbo in his younger days. Grinning, he picked it up and showed it to Bilbo.

"What's this?"

"_That_ is private." Bilbo snatched it from him. "Keep your sticky paws off!" Frodo looked over Bilbo's shoulder at the large red notebook he had been writing in.

Bilbo slapped the book shut. "It's not ready yet."

"'Not ready' for what?"

"_Reading_."

Frodo stepped out of the room to examine some of Bilbo's old relics: weapons and armour that had been sitting in a musty trunk in the hall for decades.

"What on earth are these?" asked Bilbo, noticing the letters for the first time. He flipped through them confusedly.

"Replies to the party invitations." said Frodo.

Bilbo gasped. "Good gracious! Is it today?'

"They all say they're coming," Frodo reassured him, replacing an oddish looking horn into the trunk and pulling out a wide-bladed sword. "Except for the Sackville-Bagginses, who are demanding you ask them in person."

"Are they indeed," muttered Bilbo. He stormed out into the hall and shoved a stray helmet into the trunk. "Over my dead body."

"They'd probably find that quite agreeable," said Frodo, watching as Bilbo set various silver plated items into an open chest and cover it with a coat. "They seem to think you have tunnels overflowing with gold."

"It was one small chest, hardly overflowing," corrected Bilbo. "And it still smells of troll."

"What on earth are you doing?" Frodo cried, as Bilbo thrust a few more trinkets into covered bowls.

Bilbo whipped around, surprised. "Taking precautions," he said, lidding a dark wooden urn. He gazed at Frodo intently before rushing off again. "You know I caught _her_ making off with the silverware once."

Puzzled, Frodo asked, "Who?"

Snatching a book off of the top of a shelf, Bilbo replied (with no amount of small disgust),"Lobelia, Sackville-Baggins!" He strode through the dining room, and Frodo followed, intrigued. "She had all my spoons stuffed in her pocket." Bilbo laughed, and set the items on the kitchen table. "Dreadful woman! Make sure you keep an eye on her after I'm..." He faltered. "When I'm...when..."

Frodo eyed him suspiciously. "When you're... what?"

Bilbo stared off for a moment before replying in a distant tone, "It's nothing...nothing." And he wandered off into the sitting room.

Frodo blinked, assessing. "You know," he said, trailing after Bilbo, "some people are beginning to wonder about you, uncle."

"Hmm." Bilbo bent over a table, writing a notice on a large sheet of tacking paper.

Frodo stood, observing him cautiously from the doorway. "They think you're becoming odd."

"Odd?" Bilbo stood up abruptly. "Huh." And he went back to his notice.

"Unsociable," Frodo clarified, stepping closer and still watching Bilbo's reactions closely.

Bilbo laughed. "Unsociable? _Me? _Nonsense. If I were _unsociable, _I wouldn't be inviting a guest to stay, now would I?"

"Well..."

"Of course not," Bilbo answered himself. Lifting up the tacking paper, he handed it to Frodo. "Be a good lad and put that on the gate?"

Frodo read the notice and looked up at his uncle disbelievingly.

He read it again while nailing it onto the front gate:

_ NO ADMITTANCE_

_ except on party business._

"Do you think she'll come?" Frodo asked, as Bilbo did his morning exercises on the doorstep.

Bilbo froze mid-stretch. "Who?"

With an impatient look, Frodo said, "The Aigrette*.(*In the Common Tongue, Aigrette is pronounced _eye-gray.)_

Bilbo laughed again, nervously this time. "Oh! Well, we promised; although..." he hesitated. "Well, it _is_ a rather old promise. Still, I don't think and Aigrette would break an oath. In fact I know she wouldn't." But Bilbo looked unnerved.

"Right," said Frodo with an innocent smile. He knew nothing of Aigrettes. "And Gandalf?"

"He wouldn't miss a chance to let off his wiz-poppers. He'll give us quite a show, you'll see!" This was Bilbo's chance to smile encouragingly.

"Well then, I'm off," Frodo announced, dashing off with a book under his arm.

"Off to where?"

"East farthing woods. I'm going to surprise him!"

"Well, go on then!" said Bilbo, "You don't want to be late!" And after Frodo was gone, he said to himself, "He doesn't approve of being late."

_Not that I ever was,_ thought Bilbo, continuing his mental narrative as he blew smoke-rings out and over The Hill. _In those days I was always on time. I was entirely respectable, and nothing unexpected ever happened._

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**Yeah, I know that was pretty much a narrative of the beginning of the movie. The next chapter shakes things up a bit (: **


	2. Chapter I: An Unexpected Party

**Mistakes are mine, dangit! Also: for better imagining, the cast of **_**The Hobbit**_** are what the characters in this story resemble, so just roll with it.**

**Some parts are from Tolkien's book, so don't sue me for genius; sue _him._**

**Same for Peter Jackson.  
**

**Also: I don't own _The Hobbit,_ movies or book. Well, I DO own copies...but that's another story.**

**-Ana**

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Chapter I

AN UNEXPECTED PARTY

It was on a day much similar to this, sixty years earlier that Bilbo Baggins had sat, perfectly content with his life on a bench outside his front door. He was blowing smoke-rings out over the hill— The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and had just blown a particularly large, lovely one when who should walk past his front gate but Gandalf.

Gandalf, Gandalf the Gray! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since his friend the Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been away over The Hill and across The Water on businesses of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls.

As he passed, he took Bilbo's smoke-ring and shaped it into a tiny smoke dragon that flew— straight at the hobbit's nose! It tapped him and vanished into nothing. All that the Bilbo saw was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which his long white beard hung down below his waist.

"Good Morning!" said Bilbo, somewhat suspiciously. He didn't like the look the wizard was giving him: taking him in from head to toe. It was most unsettling, so Bilbo looked away and around the garden nervously.

But Gandalf still viewed him, looking out from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?"

Bilbo eyes shifted uncertainly. Such a question was highly unusual, especially to such a simple—well, statement. And statements usually didn't need questions; at least not in the Shire.

"Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning; or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once, I suppose," replied our Mr. Baggins, after a brief moment's hesitation. He was getting the uncanny feeling that the old man was trying to catch him at something.

"Hmm," said Gandalf unfathomably, and continued to observe Bilbo from his rather great height.

Now Bilbo was beginning to get really uncomfortable. He fidgeted around on the garden bench before asking (somewhat reluctantly), "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen," Gandalf said. "I'm looking for someone to share in an Adventure_,_" raising his eyebrows at the word _adventure._

Bilbo drew the pipe from his mouth and blinked in disbelief; gaping for a moment before saying, "An Adventure?" He pulled back in distaste and shook his head. "No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree" —he gestured towards the East— "would have much interest in Adventures." Getting up to fetch the mail, he went on, "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!" He chuckled contemptuously, then ignoring Gandalf he sorted through his daily letters, grunting at various intervals, as if the mail were infinitely more interesting.

Finally he looked up. "Well, good morning!" Bilbo said again, tramping up the path to his doorstep. How he hoped the old man would leave him alone!

"To think," the wizard called after him, "that I should have lived to be 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

Bilbo whirled around. "I beg your pardon?"

The wizard eyed him disapprovingly. "You have changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins. I had expected a welcome at least remotely as ceremonious as the one I received from the Aigrette!"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" asked Bilbo pointedly. "And what does an Aigrette—a legendary _figure,_ mind you— have to do with me?"

Now, this is a tricky topic indeed. The mother of this hobbit—of Bilbo Baggins, that is—was the famous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took. He was head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. This, of course, was absurd, since time had jumbled the histories of the older hobbit clans, especially those of the more prominent families. Indeed, such was the tale of the nearly forgotten Aigrettes'; for it was Michander Aigrette who wedded the daughter of the fairy-king.

From that sprang the rest of the Aigrette line, which at the time of our story had all but isolated itself from the other hobbits. Rumour had it that their family line was fading out, and they only rarely showed their faces in public. Some said that it was because of modesty: the Aigrette had always been particularly attractive hobbits. Others said that it was because their beauty had finally failed them and that out of shame they had hidden themselves away in their own corner of the Shire.

All the same, there was something not entirely hobbit-like about them; most especially peculiar to the other hobbits were their unnaturally small feet (probably from fairy influence), and their clear grey green eyes (undoubtedly from fairy influence; as most hobbits have blue or brown eyes.) Similar things were thought of the Tooks as well, and all because once in a while members of the Took and Aigrette clans would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the families hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Aigrettes' were twice as mysterious as the Tooks, but the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer.

"A great deal more than you would expect.," said the old man. "The Aigrette is _not _a legendary figure, any more than am I. You know my name, although you don't remember that I belong to it. _I_ am Gandalf, and Gandalf means..." He searched for words, before replying simply, "...ME!"

"Gandalf," muttered Bilbo to himself. "Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such _excellent_ fireworks?"

"Well..." Gandalf shrugged modestly.

"Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve!" Bilbo threw back his head and laughed, then eyed the old man with amazement. "I had no idea you were still in business."

"And where _else_ should I be?" asked the wizard, very put out.

"Well!" Here, there, around the country Bilbo pointed with his pipe, them cleared his throat in a determined way and took a few pulls at his pipe.

"Well, I am pleased to find you remember something about me," said Gandalf, not sounding very pleased _at all, _"even if it is only my fireworks." He nodded sharply, as if finally making up his mind. "Well, that's decided. It'll be very good for you—it's about time you learned who is legendary and who isn't—and most amusing for me, to watch when you do. I shall inform the others." And he made as if to leave.

"What? No, NO, wait." Mr. Baggins ran up his walkway to his doorstep and stood resolutely, as if making things very clear. "We do not want _any _Adventures _here_, thank you! Nor Aigrettes; not today! No! I suggest you try over The Hill or across The Water." And he waved the wizard off with his pipe, pausing before entering his door to give one last firm "Good _morning!"_

Once inside, Bilbo threw all of the locks on his door and leaned back against it, listening. He had just given up and was about to sort his letters again when he heard a faint scratching on the lower portion of his door—coming from the _outside. _He leaned down for a moment to be sure of his hearing, then rushed to peer suspiciously out of the closest window.

No sooner had he begun to look around that Gandalf's bright blue eye appeared, his face taking up the whole of the outside window. Bilbo flinched and ducked into the nearest doorway (it happened to be to the sitting room), startled and gasping for breath.

After a moment, he scuttled into the sitting room, which also had windows overlooking the garden. There he saw Gandalf, just stepping out of the gate. Bilbo watched him walk away up the path, wondering what it could all mean. Who knew what the old man had done to his door—his beautiful round green door with the shiny brass knob in the middle of it. And poor Bilbo was so out of sorts that he didn't even think to check for himself.

By that evening, Bilbo had nearly forgotten his encounter with the wizard. As he settled down to dinner, he little thought of Gandalf, or of Adventures—that is, until the doorbell rang. He looked up alarmed. Who could it be, he wondered, at such a late hour?

How surprised his was upon opening his door! There stood a very lovely she-hobbit, with a long red cloak fastened about her shoulders and a red hood cast over her head. Behind her, a pony was tethered the the gate-post, champing happily on the contents of its feedbag.

"Good evening," she said. "Are you Mr. Baggins?"

Bilbo was speechless. He was unaccustomed to lady visitors showing up on his doorstep at night, or indeed at any other time: for Bilbo was a categorical bachelor. And since he was already in his dressing gown, it was more than slightly embarrassing.

"G-good evening," he stuttered, drawing his robe more tightly about him. Searching desperately for words he asked, "Ah—have we met before?"

"No," said the she-hobbit, slowly, then laughed. "But here I am!"

"I-I'm sorry, but I'm a bit confused."

The she-hobbit raised an eyebrow. "You look it." But she was smiling. "And I was told you weren't expecting me, so please trouble yourself pretending that you were."

"I see." Bilbo stood skeptically in the doorway. "But, eh, I'm not in the custom of having female visitors—especially after dark. The neighbors, you know," he said confidentially, leaning out of the door. "They _would_ talk."

The she-hobbit looked very offended. "Well! Are you a hobbit of very _poor_ reputation?" she challenged.

Bilbo drew back. "Well, no; no, of course not. I just—"

"And do your neighbors think so very little of you, that they would jump to such unsavory conclusions?"

"No! No, they wouldn't; I only thought that, um..." Bilbo was quite taken aback: had never heard any she-hobbit speak so boldly. He frowned. "You're... not much of an average hobbit, are you?"

The girl smiled. "No, I'm not," she said. "Now. May I _please_ come in?"

Bilbo found that he was smiling too, quite in spite of himself. He glanced around outside before opening the door a little wider and letting her in. "I say, is that a pony?"

The girl laughed. "Yes," she replied, as she removed her cloak and hood. "That's Brilliant."

"You named your pony Brilliant?"

"It's a family tradition," said the girl, surprised.

"Oh." Most hobbits didn't go riding around on ponies regularly: and this girl's whole family did?

With her hood off, and in the better light, Bilbo could see that she had gray eyes, and long dark hair. Her dress was red, too (it was a riding dress, and so only came just below her knees), and on her feet (which were surprisingly small) she wore a pair of high dark brown riding boots. For a hobbit she was altogether strange; yet a hobbit she clearly was. And something about her was quite fetching.

"I suppose should apologize," she admitted. "I can be a bit... argumentative. But I can't really help it: it's in my blood."

"Oh, it's nothing," said Bilbo, who surprisingly didn't feel the least bit angry anymore.

"No really, I..."

"Now, now," said Bilbo, hanging up her cloak and hood, "you're quite forgiven. Perhaps you can forgive me, for—eh, gawping at you. I suppose I looked rather..._foolish._"

"Rather," agreed the girl, and laughed.

For a moment they smiled at one another.

"Do you think," said Bilbo, coming a bit closer, "that we could... start over?" He held out his hand. "I'm Bilbo Baggins."

She took his hand to shake it. "I'm—" she began, when the doorbell rang—again!

Bilbo looked toward the door, alarmed, then back towards the girl, holding her hand a little more desperately. He didn't want more company quite yet; he even thought that this girl (whoever she was) might be worth talking to—and that was an entirely new feeling for our Mr. Baggins.

But the she-hobbit gave him an apologetic smile, pulled away and moved towards the door. Bilbo was very sorry. And then, before Bilbo knew what had happened, a dwarf was standing on his door mat!

The dwarf bowed most courteously. "Is this the residence of Mr. Baggins?"

"Indeed it is," said the girl with a friendly smile. "But don't you remember me, old friend?"

The dwarf gazed at her for a moment, and then gasped. "Miss Adelaide!" And he bowed again, and kissed her hand.

"Adelaide," murmured Bilbo. It suited her.

"Hello, Dwalin," said the girl—that is, Adelaide. "Come straight in."

Presently Dwalin had been introduced to an astonished Mr. Baggins, and soon the dwarf had taken it upon himself to go into the kitchen and eat all of poor Bilbo's dinner.

Adelaide looked apologetically at him. "Perhaps I should turn on some tea?" Bilbo looked up gratefully.

Once she was gone, Dwalin (who had almost crammed the whole dinner down his throat already, and was just biting the head off of a fish) said, with his mouth full, "Very good, this. Any more?" For dwarves have very poor table manners.

Bilbo, who was sitting dazedly on a stool near the fire, was startled. "What? Uh...oh! Eh, yes, yes." He fetched a plate of rolls from the windowsill. On an impulse he took two rolls off the plate before handing it to Dwalin. "Help yourself." With both of his hands behind his back (mainly to hide the rolls), Bilbo said casually, "Hmm. It's just that, um, I wasn't expecting company."

As if cued by his thought, the doorbell rang again.

Bilbo looked up, very alarmed indeed.

"That'll be the door," said Dwalin flatly.

Bilbo went, and opening the door saw yet another dwarf, this one older than the first, with long white and a long white beard. He was grinning.

"Balin," he said with a low bow, "at your service!'

"Good evening," said Bilbo, a bit stiffly.

"Yes, it is," said Balin, looking about at the stars and sky. "Though, I think it might rain later."

"Hmm," was all the hobbit could manage.

"Am I late?" the dwarf asked, stepping inside without bidding.

"L-l-late for what?"

Balin looked into the sitting room, where Dwalin was shaking the knick-knacks on the mantelpiece; one by one, and very vigorously.

"Oh!" cried Balin, swaggering into the room and chuckling. "Evening, brother!"

"Oho!" laughed Dwalin, looking Balin over. "By my beard! You are shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter," corrected Balin with a grin. "Sharp enough for both of us." He winked, and then, after a gret deal of chuckling, the greeted in the dwarvish brotherly fashion: conking heads.

"Ah, excuse me," Bilbo interjected, "sorry. I hate to interrupt, but, eh, the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."

"Did you know," said Dwalin afterwards, completely ignoring the hobbit, "that our dear Miss Adelaide is here?"

"Really?" exclaimed Balin.

"Yes. She's in the kitchen. Said something about putting the kettle on."

"Ah," intoned Balin. "Let's go give her a hand. It's about time supper was got on."

"Supper?" cried Bilbo, who hadn't asked them to it.

But the dwarves were off, and into the pantry they went, loading trays full of food for themselves without the slightest reserve.

They stopped in the pantry...well, one of them. "It's not that I don't like visitors," explained Bilbo as the dwarves helped themselves to his ale. "I-I like visitors as much as the next hobbit. But I do like to know them before they come visiting. Hmm!"

Still ignoring the hobbit, the dwarves muttered amongst themselves concerning the food. "What's this?" asked Dwalin.

"I don't know," said Balin. "I just thought it would be cheese. It's gone blue."

"It's riddled with mold," said Dwalin, disgusted.

"The thing is," Bilbo went on, "I don't—I don't know either of you."

Dwalin tossed the cheese over his shoulder and into the hall.

"Not in the slightest," Bilbo continued. "I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind. I'm _sorry._" He held up his hands in an apologetic way.

Dwalin and Balin spun around. They, of course, had not been listening; and so heard only the last of Bilbo's speech.

"Apology accepted," said Balin forgivingly.

"Well!" Bilbo was offended. It made no difference at all.

"Oh now, fill it up brother," said Balin, passing Dwalin back his half-filled mug of ale. "Don't stint."

Just then, the doorbell rang. Again.

Bilbo looked worriedly down the hall at the door, but still went to answer it.

It was two more dwarves. Bilbo moaned and stared down at the floor.

"Fili," said one.

"And Kili," said the other.

"At your service!" they said in unison, and bowed.

"You must be Mr. Boggins," said Kili cheerfully.

"No! You can't come in; you've come to the wrong house," said Bilbo, trying to shut them out.

"What!" exclaimed Kili, stopping the door. "Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told us," said Fili.

"Can—no, nothing's been cancelled!" said Bilbo indignantly.

"That's a relief!" said Kili, and he and Fili entered the hall, giving Bilbo looks as if he were odd.

Bilbo didn't close the door. He was beginning to get really angry.  
At once, the dwarves began to remove their numerous weapons, laying them in Bilbo's arms as if he were the butler. "Be careful with these," said Fili, dropping several large swords onto the stack. "I just had them sharpened."

"It's nice, this place," remarked Kili. "Did you do it yourself?" And he began scraping his boots on a small trunk.

Bilbo was becoming quite burdened. "Ah, no; it's been in the family for years..._that's _my mother's glory box, could you _please _not do that!"

"Fili, Kili," said Dwalin as he came to fetch them, "come on; give us a hand." He threw an arm around Kili.

"Mr. Dwalin," said Kili, awed, and laughed. He went off to the dining room, and Fili came along shortly.

"Let's shove this in the hall," said Balin, moving the china cabinet, "or we'll never get everyone in."

"Hey...everyone!" cried Bilbo, who had followed after them still carrying the swords. "How many more are there?"

The doorbell rang _again._

"Oh no," said Mr. Baggins, "no, no. There's nobody home!" he yelled, dropping the weapons on a bench in the hall. "Go away, and _bother_ somebody else! There's far too many _dwarves_ in my dining room as it is! I-if this is some _lot head's _idea of a joke—ha, ha!—I can only say, it is in _very_ poor taste!"

With that, he yanked open the front door for the last time, and in tumbled a whole bundle of dwarves onto the floor, right smack in the hall!

They grumbled considerably about it; but Bilbo could only stare in disbelief at the crowd on his carpeting. A tall figure dressed in grey stood just outside the door. Presently he bent down and peered in at Bilbo, somewhat ruefully.

"Gandalf," said Bilbo with an enormous sigh, for everything had become clear—painfully so.

Once inside, Gandalf gazed around the hall. His eyes fell upon the row of hoods and cloaks. "Ah!" he said in a satisfied way. "So the Aigrette has arrived!"

"The Aigrette?" said Bilbo snappishly, "No! There are _no _Aigrettes here, thank you very much! I think I would have noticed if an _Aigrette _had arrived."

"Hmm," said Gandalf. "Would you?"

* * *

Over the next hour, anything and everything edible in Mr. Baggins' pantries were brought out and laid on the table by the dwarves—much in spite of Bilbo's protests. They seemed intent on having a feast. Soon, the dining room was crowded, the pantries were empty, and Bilbo was left to survey the damage. The dwarves were very loud and rowdy, and seemed not to notice their (somewhat begrudging) host at all.

Just as Bilbo was really beginning to despair, however, Adelaide returned.

Bilbo was turning round and round, surveying the damage hopelessly. "Oh! Thank goodness! I thought you'd gone away," he said, seeing Adelaide standing in the doorway of the sitting room.

"As if!" Adelaide scoffed. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you here alone with only a wizard and thirteen dwarves for company—_if_ indeed you can call them _company _at all." She gazed keenly at Bilbo's face. "I say, are you feeling all right?"

"No, I am _not _all right!" cried Bilbo, all in a rage. "Look what they've done to my house! _And_ they've eaten all the food! I didn't want _company!_" He sucked air, realizing his mistake—it was reflected in Adelaide's face. "I—I'm sorry; I didn't mean that, Adelaide. Really I didn't..." But Adelaide shook her head sadly and went out.

Bilbo moaned and slumped into a chair before the fire. "Oh, what have I done?" he said to himself, and smacked his head. "You—you idiot! A beautiful girl shows up on your doorstep, and already you've insulted her, made her do the chores, and then _insulted_ her_ again_?Ha! Some gentlehobbit you are!" Mr. Baggins buried his face in his hands, deeply ashamed.

He sat like that for a while, thoroughly miserable, until he heard a soft noise in front of him. He looked up, and on the table before him was a tray, with a teapot steaming and provender laid out upon it. Sitting in the chair across from him was Adelaide.

"I eh, guess now you know why I'm a bachelor," Bilbo said sheepishly.

"Mr. _Baggins_," Adelaide said with a wry look, "did you think I'd take offence at a petty insult like that? It was a poor one anyway; you would need a much sharper comeback that that before I'd really take notice. You're tired," she said, pouring the tea, "your lovely hole has been descended upon, practically plundered by dwarves—perfect strangers, I might add—in short, it's been a long day. I would suggest you put your mind at ease. No permanent damage has been done, anyway. Now; drink your tea before it gets cold, won't you?"

Bilbo stared gratefully at her. "I do believe you're right."

Adelaide handed him his tea. "I _know _I am." And she smiled, so sweetly that Bilbo felt quite heartsick.

It turned out that they had much to talk about between them; there was plenty of tea, and Bilbo produced the rolls he had pocketed earlier, so the time passed quite pleasantly for a while. Finally, as they were laughing over something, Bilbo looked and saw Gandalf in the doorway.

"Hello," said Bilbo. "Have you quite finished eating then?"

"Quite," said Gandalf, taking a seat beside Adelaide. He patted her hand. "And I can see you've met the Aigrette."

Bilbo's jaw dropped. _This _was the Aigrette? "W-what?"

"Tell me," said the wizard dryly, "is she as terrifying as you expected? Legendary, even?"

"Well, eh, no—NO!" said Bilbo emphatically. "No, not in the least. But really, Gandalf; I hadn't any idea!"

"No, you hadn't; which is why you should not judge things that you know nothing _of_," Gandalf said pointedly.

Bilbo gave Adelaide a sheepish look. Adelaide smiled right back, and winked. "Adelaide Aigrette, Adventurer, at your service."

* * *

**Ta-da! The Aigrette line lives on! WOOT!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews are better than Bilbo's buns...wait, WHAT?!**

**Lol. (:**

**Update timeframe depends on response. Please be nice! Thank you!**


	3. Chapter II: Awkward Encounters

**Okay peoples: so due to some suggestions, I will accommodate both the book and film into this story. I think it is the best of both worlds...if you'll pardon the pun (;**

**Everything not from the book or film? MINE.**

**Thanks, to everyone who Fav'd and Follow'd. Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter II

AWKWARD ENCOUNTERS

"Adventurer?" Bilbo repeated in disbelief, trying hard to keep his jaw from hanging. He snapped it shut with an audible clack as Gandalf waved his staff in front of the hobbit's face.

"Don't gawp, Bilbo; it's extremely unsightly. Besides, you are in the presence of a _lady."_ Gandalf said, with a disapproving look.

Bilbo stumbled for words. "Yes...well I just...but you aren't...aren't you supposed to be dead?" He cringed. "I mean...the Aigrettes. Nobody has seen or heard from them in years."

"Well," Adelaide began, hesitantly.

The sound of loud clanking rang through the house, and a stray bowl rolled past the doorway.

"Oh no NO!" Bilbo cried, quite distressed; and shot out of his chair and into the hall saying "please be careful!" and "please, don't trouble! I can manage." But the dwarves only started to sing:

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_

_Blunt the knives and bend the forks!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates—_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole;_

_And when you've finished if any are whole,_

_Send them down the hall to roll!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_So, carefully! carefully with the plates!_

And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while the hobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing.

Adelaide had followed along behind him, laughing alongside Gandalf at the poor hobbit's bewilderment and flustered state. So far, she quite liked Bilbo; he was sweet, to be certain...but she found he lacked a certain kick to his personality that would be necessary to even consider him as fellow burglar material. She expressed this to the wizard, who stooped next to her to be within listening range.

"Hmmm," he intoned, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I understand what you mean, my dear; Bilbo is far from feisty...as things are _now; _however, I believe that in the proper circumstances, he could be very spirited indeed."

"But is '_could be' _ good enough?" Adelaide asked. "It's not that I don't approve of him, Gandalf. I find him very...intriguing"—true; but she found herself having to choose her words carefully lest the wizard begin to tease her of forming affections for someone who was, as of yet, a complete stranger...albeit a handsome stranger—"but I worry that he is not made of the the stuff a burglar must be. He seems too...homey, for an Adventure such as the one we are departing on. And I would feel very badly if he were to come to harm because I said he were up to the task."

"Then I suppose you are lucky that the decision is not entirely upon your shoulders," said Gandalf. Then he smiled. "I felt much the same way on _your _first Adventure." Adelaide blushed at the memory. "It certainly took a lot of convincing for your aunt to let you come along with me."

"I was looking for Adventure," said Adelaide gently, watching as the hobbit in the kitchen fussed over doilies amidst a sea of dwarves. "I'm not certain that he is."

"Perhaps he just doesn't know it yet," said Gandalf, and went into the kitchen to speak with Bilbo.

Adelaide went back into the hall, and looked around at the horrendous mess the dwarves had made. Should Bilbo not choose to come (or not be chosen, as the case also might be) he would have quite the time trying to get out all of the mud that had been tracked into his carpet. For his sake, she hoped he wouldn't.

And also, in part, for her own.

Adelaide wasn't a _normal_ hobbit; Bilbo had spotted this right away. All of the hobbits she had known in her forty six years felt similarly, and, whether by accident or design, made sure that she remained uncomfortably aware of it. She had, of course, grown up in the most obtuse corner of the Shire, and had not had as much contact with other hobbits as Bilbo most likely had; but she had left for her first adventure at thirty three, as soon as she'd come of age. Thus Adelaide had had a great deal of experience with almost every other kind of creature that Middle Earth had to offer, and was far from unsociable. Elves, dwarves, wizards, even men, she got along with nicely; but she didn't often feel at home with her own kind...other hobbits viewed her as an oddity, a rare beauty, perhaps; but an oddity nonetheless. The fact that she was part fairy didn't exactly help things, either; when she was younger she had especially gotten into trouble because of certain...uncommon talents she had.

But that was what had surprised her with Bilbo. Apart from initially admitting she was strange, he hadn't treated her differently at all...well, until he had learned she was an Aigrette. Perhaps things would be different, now that he knew...

Adelaide sighed, and reached into her dress pocket, fingering a familiar object. Sometimes, she just wished she could disappear, and not have to face the rejection of her own kind.

But she knew that wasn't allowed. Her aunt had given her strict rules about the usage of—

"Adelaide, come into the dining room, won't you?" Gandalf was back in the hall, looking into the dining room where she could hear the dwarves laughing riotously.

"Certainly, Mithrandir," said the she-hobbit, pulling her hand from her pocket with a barely audible sigh.

She went into the room, and immediately, the dwarves gave a cheer. "There is our favorite, most beautiful and beloved Adventurer!" they cried, then burst into yet another song, this one ever so stately:

_O family so noble, O family of Shire_

_Adventurers, praise them with timbrel and lire_

_Of dangerous deeds and of perilous quests_

_True tales can be told of them, burglars' best_

_For fairest and bravest, though short be they may_

_And long may they live, the small-footed Aigrette!_

It was her family's song. Adelaide smiled at the display of affection. "You are really much too kind," she said, clasping her hands before her and suppressing her laughter. They had sung it so comically that it was all she could do not to dissolve into a mess of giggles. "And a bit too free with your praises. I know we've traveled together before but you all act as if you're in love with me!"

A hearty round of laughter. "Kili almost proposed to you, once!" hollered Oin. "But he chickened out."

"I did not!" exclaimed Kili indignantly, but Fili nudged him meaningfully, eliciting a blush.

"Liar!" bellowed Bofur.

"He's much too young anyway," said Gloin, giving the younger dwarf a stern look. "Thorin was the one who was interested...once."

The room fell eerily silent.

"Yes, well," said Adelaide uncomfortably. "We needn't get into all that. It was a passing fancy, anyway. And we're good enough friends now; there's really no good dwelling on the past. He's more like a big brother to me." The topic seemed to make her immensely uncomfortable.

Balin, catching onto this, patted her hand in a comforting way and said, "Yes. I think we're all in love with you a little, lassie. We wouldn't be proper members of this company if we weren't." the other dwarves murmured a low agreement. Adelaide involuntarily blushed, and thanked the older dwarf for his kindness.

Bilbo was watching her from the other side of the table. It was no surprise that these dwarves harbored an endearment for the she-hobbit—and perhaps for some of them, a little bit more—when she was so lovely to begin with; even Bilbo, bachelor that he was, couldn't deny it. He _could _deny the stirring he'd had in the pit of his stomach while having tea with her...but that was something else altogether...wasn't it?

Besides that, he couldn't help wondering how such a feminine looking creature could be an Adventurer, let alone have 'dangerous deeds' and 'perilous quests' to tell of.

Then a knock came at the door; ominous sounding in the sudden stillness.

"He is here," said Gandalf, only adding to the air of mystery.

They all rose and went to the door. Bilbo opened it, and in stepped Thorin Oakenshield himself. He looked tired, and worn from his travels.

"Gandalf," Thorin said, his voice grand though his appearance was not. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all, were it not for that mark on the door."

"Mark? There is no mark on that door; it was painted a week ago!"

"Well, you'd think that we'd recognize your house in some way, Mr. Baggins," said Adelaide, who was standing with her arms crossed behind Gandalf, who moved aside for the she-hobbit. It was remarkable the respect he had for such a small, female person. "It's night, we'd never seen this hole before, and most of us _weren't_ led here by Gandalf."

"Ms. Aigrette," said Thorin. A warm glint sprang into his eyes. "So that was old Brilliant I saw by the gate."

Then, rather oddly to Bilbo, Adelaide ran forward and threw her arms around the kingly dwarf. He laughed. "And how is this sisterly Adventurer we are loathe to travel without?"

"It has been too long, Master Oakenshield," Adelaide said with a small laugh. "I was beginning to think that your resolve had waned, and you had given up the idea of this quest."

"Hardly," said Thorin, holding her at arm's length and giving her a reproachful look. Adelaide smirked. "It has only taken me longer than I'd thought to locate an additional burglar, as you requested." He looked to Gandalf.

"And indeed we have found him," Gandalf said, gesturing to Bilbo. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo could practically feel the confidence radiating of of the dwarf. "So," said Thorin, stepping away from Adelaide to get a better look at Bilbo. "This is the hobbit." He circled said hobbit in an almost menacing way (or so it felt to poor Bilbo, who didn't have that faintest idea why Thorin had wanted to meet him...or _hadn't_ wanted to meet him, since that was more of the feeling he could sense from the dwarf.)

"Tell me, Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo looked to Adelaide, confused.

"Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

"Well I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," said Bilbo, with a hint of pride. But it quickly faded away when he saw the heads of the dwarves shaking in amusement. "But I...fail to see why that's...relevant." Also Thorin, with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow, was standing before him and looking rather unimpressed.

"I thought as much," he said, giving Adelaide a wry expression. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The dwarves all chuckled at this, and withdrew back into the dining room.

"Than a...what?" Bilbo was confused, and upset.

Gandalf leaned on the outcrop of the ceiling, and sighed.

Adelaide looked a bit ruffled. "So he doesn't approve of our selection, does he?" she said irritably, smoothing her skirts with sharp swats. "Well, we'll just see about that." And grabbing Bilbo rather suddenly by the hand, she pulled him into the dining room.

"Now see here," she began, and Thorin turned back looking a bit surprised. He had just sat down, and held up a hand at her. "Can the lecture wait, my irascible one, until Bombur has fetched me some supper? I am told you have already eaten."

"Everything in my larder, that is!" Bilbo quipped, still rather put out over the intrusion. "There's nothing left! I'd like to see you find something that's still edible, besides cheese rinds! And not a drop to drink, neither!"

Adelaide narrowed her eyes at Thorin. She snapped and pointed at Thorin's place at the table and...hey presto! There sat a steaming bowl of soup, and a tankard of ale. Indeed, tankards lined the entire length of the table, thirteen of them all counted. Several plates of rolls and after dinner treats were set along the table at various intervals.

Thorin glanced at his soup. "Such meager fare, my lady?" he teased.

Adelaide gave him a superior look. "Le ab-dollen," she said, and Thorin scowled. He hated it when she spoke elvish.

The other dwarves, however, were thrilled with the dessert selection and fresh ale. "Oh, the conveniences of fairy blood," said Dwalin, almost enviously. "Food and drink at the snap of a finger. I'd like to see one of you lads who doesn't wish for a similar gift."

"Only about seventeen times a day!" cried Ori, and the others laughed.

But Bilbo was awestruck. He tugged at Adelaide's sleeve in disbelief. "Y-you...that food just..."

Appeared?" Adelaide gave him a surprised look. "I'm an Aigrette, Mr. Baggins. Surely you know what I'm capable of?"

"Hardly," said Bilbo. "Just...what are you capable of?" he asked, a bit bravely.

Adelaide came him a coy smile. "More than you'd think," she said, and moved to take a seat beside Gandalf. Bilbo stood behind the wizard, watching the dwarves with no little trepidation, and wondering what on earth the she-hobbit could mean...although it was becoming more and more clear that she was something much more than an ordinary she-hobbit. In his mind he resolved not to think of her as such; rather, as an Aigrette.

Had she known this, Adelaide wouldn't have been surprised. Bu she wouldn't have been pleased, either.

Adelaide was busy thinking of how to convince Thorin to allow Bilbo on the adventure. Yes, it was true that only minutes before she had been debating with herself whether or not Bilbo was up to the task; but he was growing on her, and anyway, she didn't want Thorin to brush him off like that. She of all people knew that looks could be deceiving; and if Gandalf thought that Mr. Baggins was the right one for the task, then odds were that he was right...and she intended to believe in the wizard's choices, like she usually did.

They bickered from time to time, but she did trust him.

The dwarves were speaking of a meeting of their kin; though she was hardly listening Adelaide could tell form context that none of the other dwarf lords would offer assistance. They were alone...on this adventure. There would be no other help.

This only made Adelaide's resolve grow even stronger.

"You're...going on an quest?" Bilbo asked, and Adelaide was reminded yet again of how little he knew.

"Why yes, dear, we are," she said, watching him blush and wondering why. Oh yes...she'd just called him dear in front of an entire company of males...that was it. But she did that all the time to the dwarves! The didn't mind! Perhaps it was because she and Bilbo hadn't known each other for very long.

Bilbo felt his stomach jump an odd direction. She had just called him 'dear'!

"Bilbo, my dear fellow," said Gandalf, breaking the odd tension by using the word himself. "Let us have a little more light?"

Bilbo scuttled off for a lamp, while Gandalf gave Adelaide a look that said 'oh dear. He really will have a rough time of it; but I don't suppose it can be helped. He must come.'

Adelaide found it amazing how much Gandalf could say with his eyes. However, the telepathy from her fairy blood helped too. The Adventurer and wizard had made a pact about mental communication from the beginning, and knew that it was immensely helpful in quieter settings such as these.

Gandalf then pulled out a map, and laid it out on the table; but Adelaide was watching Bilbo, as he took a candle from a wall sconce and brought it back to the wizard. She found something rather...intriguing about him, and kept catching herself looking at him. Under normal circumstances, this would have bothered her, but she merely attributed it to professional interest, and hoped he others weren't noticing.

" 'The Lonely Mountain'," Bilbo read over Gandalf's shoulder. On the other side of the wizard, Adelaide leaned forward to get a closer look.

"This never came up in our conversation," she said, pointing at the map indignantly. "Have you been keeping information from me, Gandalf?"

Gandalf sighed wearily. "Adelaide, my dear, it was something Thorin had the right to see and be told of first," he said directly. "Were it not of such a personal nature to him, I would have shown you it when I asked you along, I assure you."

"Right," said Adelaide, clearly not convinced. "Just like you _would_ have shown me my great great grandmother's fate in Lady Galadriel's mirror, _if_ we hadn't happened to leave Lothlórien in such a hurry."

Gandalf shook his head. "You never will drop that, will you?"

"No," said Adelaide, rising to take several empty plates into the kitchen. Mainly to hide her frustration. That had been her one chance to...

"What is so important about your great great grandmother's fate?" Bilbo asked, having followed her.

Adelaide started. "Oh, goodness Mister Baggins! I didn't know you'd followed me." She sighed. "It's...rather a long story." Her face clouded.

Bilbo noticed that she seemed to be upset, so he came and set his hand on her shoulder. "There certainly are a lot of things about you that are 'a long story' aren't there?" He said, his eyes sympathetic.

"I'm afraid so," said Adelaide quietly. "And it's a story I'm not sure I will ever have all the answers to. Not all stories have happy endings, you know."

He thought about this. "Well, he said finally, "the best stories don't always have all of the questions answered. Sometimes...it's enough if they can just be happy with the way things are in the end. That way, it still is a 'happy ending', you know?" He looked at her and smiled. "Besides, you can't always tell what will happen in the end, when you're still in the middle of the story!"

Though the philosophy was simple, Adelaide was oddly comforted by his words. She looked up, surprised she had let something like her great great grandmother depress her with an enormously dangerous Adventure looming over her, with all of its excitement. "I do believe you're right, Mr. Baggins," she said, giving him a smile in return. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ms. Aigrette." He paused a moment, before saying shyly, "But I say, wouldn't you call me Bilbo, instead?"

Adelaide's grey eyes shone. "Only if you call me Adelaide."

Bilbo seemed almost relieved. "It's a deal, then," he said offering her his hand to shake; and they shook on it.

They held the handshake a little longer than might normally have been expected. Bilbo found himself thinking that she was indeed very pretty; and that her eyes were such an interesting shade of grey...

"Aheh-HEM!" It was Gandalf.

All thirteen dwarves were staring at them.

"Ahh..." said Bilbo, casting a nervous glance at Adelaide and dropping her hand, a bit reluctantly. "What 'beast'?"

He looked so innocent and adorable that Adelaide had to try very hard, once again, not to laugh.

* * *

**Okay guys, here's the part where I ask you, the readers, for some insight. I have no idea what Bilbo says when Thorin asks him what his 'weapon of choice' is. It sounded like he said 'conkers'. Am I a total noob? And no, I don't have subtitles on my copy of AUJ. Please, if anyone knows what Bilbo actually said, let me know, and I'll fix it!**

**Oh, and just in case you guys haven't obsessed over LotR, 'Le ab-dollen' means, "You're late." Legolas line, from TTT.**

**Since I have no subtle way of saying this, please review. (: Thanks for reading!**


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